O for one hour of that lost age! they cry,
That golden age when old Khayyam was young.
Fools who believe the world was otherwise
Than what it now is in the Persian’s eyes,
Or think the secret of content was found
Beneath the canopy of Persian skies.
Man is to-day what man was yesterday—
Will be to-morrow; let him curse or pray,
Drink or be dull, he learns not nor shall learn
The lesson that will laugh the world away.